


Sleeping Spells

by di93



Series: Inquisitorial Enigma [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Crestwood, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:59:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7689031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/di93/pseuds/di93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian tries to help Kaaras with his magic studies and his penmanship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleeping Spells

“You see, even according to this Southern mage, spirit magic is naturally in opposition with the primal school, so you can see why you have so much difficulty with casting barriers, a spell using spirit magic, when you are so accustomed to primal magic, like those fireballs you so enjoy throwing at every opp—” Dorian explained until he was suddenly cut off by a soft snore.

Turning on his heel, he glared at the Inquisitor who had fallen asleep while trying to multitask. Namely, he had been copying _The Four Schools: A Treatise_ in order to improve his handwriting while also learning the theory behind casting barriers. Dorian was the one who came up with the idea during the trek back to Skyhold from Crestwood. As the Inquisitor, Kaaras had little time to practice reading or penmanship or casting, so it seemed logical to combine the tasks as much as possible, not to mention Dorian was silently pleased to be able to steal a few more moments of the man’s time.

Of course, no matter how much Kaaras combined his tasks and streamlined his schedule, he ran himself to the ground each day, forgoing a few hours of sleep each night for the sake of completing a few more tasks, helping a few more people.

And as Dorian stared at the man’s sleeping form, he recalled what all had transpired during their return from the now corpse-free village.

Before it was even light out that morning, Dorian had grudgingly woke to a frigid breeze biting at the back of his neck in a cave at the base of the Frostbacks. The party had rode all day to return to Skyhold, but as night fell, they deemed it too dangerous to try to scale the mountains in the dark, so they all made camp for the night. But as Dorian burrowed deeper into his blankets, he realized that his bedding had an extra layer to it that was much larger than just his usual gear. Groggily, he looked around the cave, finding only two other sleeping forms next to the fire. Frowning, he sat up, grumbling to himself about the cold, and found not only was the Qunari missing, so was the man’s weapon.

_Probably hunting, then. Alone. Again. Because that is such a brilliant decision for the man upon whom all of our lives rely_ , Dorian mentally grumbled as he moved to pull on his own gear so he could search for the compulsive ram-killer. However, before Dorian could even reach his boots, Kaaras reentered the cave, a couple of dead snow hares in hand.

Kaaras looked surprised to see Dorian awake and getting up. “Are you cold? I can build the fire up some more and you can take my coat,” he suggested, already pulling at the fastenings on his outerwear, but Dorian just glared, ignoring the goosebumps rising on his skin from the chill.

“That’s not the problem here. You shouldn’t be going off on your own in the middle of the night.”

“Oh.” Kaaras replied lamely for a moment as his hand froze at the third clasp, and Dorian watched a flush cover the man’s skin in the firelight. “I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said, glancing away for just a moment, but Dorian couldn’t help thinking that Kaaras seemed somehow… Pleased? By the Maker, the man would be the death of him, Dorian just knew it. “You should try to get some more sleep. Dawn is still a few hours off.” Kaaras hesitated for a moment as his hand twitched against the material of his shirt, but then he reached out for Dorian and pushed a lock of hair from his forehead as a small, peaceful smile crossed Kaaras’s face, leaving the Tevinter feeling like his heart was simultaneously exploding and being crushed. “I promise I’ll still be here when you wake up next time.”

Without saying anything, Dorian just curled back up beneath the blankets with his back to Kaaras, wondering to himself how in the Maker’s name was he supposed to fall back asleep after seeing that expression on the man’s face. And what right did the Maker have to give anyone that voice?

_Festis bei umo canavarum_.

Eventually, Dorian was able to fall back asleep, and as promised, Kaaras was still sitting in the same spot when he woke, and the cave was filled with the smell of roasted meat—not the most appetizing smell after weeks of surviving on just that, but Dorian’s empty stomach growled anyhow. However, as he sat up, Dorian realized that he not only smelled roasted meat, but also—Andraste be praised!—spices!

As Dorian sat up and dragged himself and his blankets closer to the fire to peer over Kaaras’s shoulder to see the man stirring a simmering pot of gruel that was—blessedly—spiced with rosemary and thyme and even had some mushrooms. What a sad state it was that Dorian was so deprived of a proper meal that mushrooms in slop cooked over a fire made him salivate, but he wasn’t about to complain—yet. No need to tempt fate and for it all to spill over into the fire. In the other pan, covered and sitting at the edge of the fire, were the hares that Kaaras had caught, Dorian presumed.

“Is that… butter in the gruel? Actual butter? Not just some sort of trick of the fade?” Dorian asked hopefully as he stared into the pot, and Kaaras nodded next to him.

“As thanks from Gauld.”

“You beautiful man, I could kiss you,” Dorian replied, smiling to himself just a little as he saw the back of Kaaras’s usually-grey neck explode into a bright read, but then a laugh sounded from the other side of the fire.

“You know, eating food with actual flavor makes it worth hearing you two flirting at this ungodly hour,” called a certain dwarf, sporting a shit-eating grin. Suddenly Dorian felt his own neck burning, but he brushed it off quickly.

“No need to feel left out, Varric. If you had some fresh fruit in that pack of yours, I’d be more than happy to flirt with you too.”

“No such luck.”

“Just as well,” Dorian replied with a shrug and a put-upon sigh, but then he found himself staring straight at a peach not a foot in front of his face. He blinked at it for a moment before looking down at the man holding it up.

“Courtesy of Judith,” Kaaras explained with a shrug as he put it in Dorian’s hand, who was still staring at him with awe.

“Should Bianca and I give you two a few minutes?”

Then Dorian cleared his throat and looked away, biting into the fruit. It was slightly over-ripe, but to Dorian at that moment, it tasted like it could be the Maker’s bosom itself.

“Want one?” Kaaras offered Varric in the resulting silence, and a moment later the dwarf was also chewing on a fruit.

“Wouldn’t happen to have some ale in that pack of yours too, would you?” Varric asked, but sighed at Kaaras’s headshake. “Worth a shot.”

Moments later, Blackwall wandered back into the cave—Dorian hadn’t even noticed he was gone since he was so distracted by actually edible food—and the four of them dug in. The cave was mostly quiet as they ate until they packed up camp and headed up the Frostbacks to finish their return to Skyhold with well-filled stomachs.

Of course, the moment Kaaras was back in the keep, barely had a moment to drop off his remaining rations at the kitchens before being whisked away to a meeting in the war room. Several hours later, as Dorian was delivering a book to Madame de Fer as a chance to stretch his legs, he saw Kaaras finally emerge from Josephine’s office only to hand off some art fragments to Gatsi before heading out into the garden. Later, when Dorian looked up from his research to look outside, he saw Kaaras speaking with Elan as they surveyed whatever he had spent the last hour or two planting—embrium, most likely, since the man had collected several seeds as they crisscrossed Crestwood—and then he spoke with Mother Giselle before leaving the area.

A little while later, as Dorian searched the shelves for tomes on spirit magic, he happened to glance outside and spot the Inquisitor leaving the quartermaster’s office and heading back up towards the keep. But then Kaaras paused and looked over at the courtyard, and it was only then that Dorian noticed Cole sitting precariously on the ledge, looking down at the wounded in the medical tents near the main gates.

Making a mental note to seek Cole out sometime soon, Dorian turned back to his own work, and it was well-past dark before Kaaras finally appeared in library that was empty save for the two of them and the crows overhead.

By any measure, they both had an extremely long day, and as Dorian stared down at the sleeping man, he couldn’t stay upset at him for falling asleep. Instead, he marked the page of the book and tidied up all of the other materials around, consciously keeping himself from staring at Kaaras for too long. Although that was a futile effort. After all, he had very rarely ever actually seen the man sleep. He was always the last to bed of their party and the first awake.

Unsurprisingly, Dorian supposed, since Kaaras had obviously trained himself to be a light sleeper out of necessity from spending so much time on his own, on the run. Of course, that just made it all the more dangerous that he was sleeping so soundly now. What did it say about his trust in Dorian? Quite a lot, something in him concluded, which was as terrifying as it was pleasing.

Somehow, sometime during all the travels that they had done, Dorian’s curiosity in the enigmatic Qunari had become something much more complicated. He wasn’t quite ready to unpack all of those complications just yet, but he had to admit that he was becoming quite attached. Yet he was still caught off guard at how much he wanted to reach out and touch the sleeping man, to feel the warmth and stubble on the man’s cheek against his palm, to run his fingers through the man’s starlight hair.

Dorian flexed his fists at his sides as he stared before remembering Kaaras doing much the same thing that morning when he’d returned from hunting. Something bright and nerve-wracking blossomed in Dorian’s chest. He hesitated a moment longer before giving in to the temptation. He ran just a finger along Kaaras’s jawline, marveling at how warm the man felt despite the chill that permeated seemingly every inch of southern Thedas.

Suddenly, Kaaras stirred, and Dorian quickly retracted his hand like he’d been burned.

“Mm… Dorian?” Kaaras asked, blearily looking up at the mage, and Dorian forced himself to frown.

“Yes, that’s right. Dorian. The one who was talking when you decided to take a nap,” he chided half-heartedly, but Kaaras still winced.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to nod off. I think you were saying something about spirit magic’s connection to necromancy?” he ventured, but Dorian sighed. Apparently Kaaras had nodded off quite some time ago without him noticing.

“I didn’t realize I was boring you so much that the back of your eyelids were so comparatively interesting.”

“It’s not that! It’s just so relaxing to listen to your voice,” he tried to explain, but a blush was creeping up his neck, and Dorian couldn’t help a small smirk even as that little bright spot in his chest grew some more.

“Oh? Well, I’d best be careful then. We wouldn’t want my voice to be luring you into the fade in the midst of a battle, now would we?” Dorian asked, and sensing that he was out of trouble, Kaaras gave a tentative smile.

“Good thing there weren’t any Venatori around just now, then.”

“Yes, lucky for you I’m a pariah and not an evil magister, isn’t it? But I’m sure we will be encountering plenty more of my less charitable countrymen soon enough, so you should get your rest in the meantime,” Dorian said, moving to clear up the last of their study materials in order to head to bed.

“Would you stay just a while longer?” Kaaras asked after some hesitation, and Dorian paused, surprised as he looked up at Kaaras again. “If you need to get to bed, I understand, of course. I don’t want to keep you, but…”

A flush crawled across Kaaras’s neck as he glanced away, and yet again Dorian felt that bright spot flare up in his chest. Maker, this man.

“Well, if you promise not to fall asleep while I’m in the middle of talking again, I suppose I could stay a while longer,” he replied, setting the materials back down on the small desk, but Kaaras touched his hands ever-so lightly, as if unsure if he was allowed. Though when Dorian looked at him again, he realized it was exactly that Kaaras was unsure if he was allowed.

“I don’t mean to study, I just want to be with you for a while more, if that’s alright,” he ventured, and Dorian put on a small smirk to try to cancel out the growing bit of light in his chest.

“I suppose I’ve no more pressing matters,” he said, and Maker-be-damned but the smile that Kaaras wore was so bright that it physically hurt Dorian to look at it.

“Would you come here?” Kaaras asked, lightly pulling Dorian’s hands towards him, and following his direction, Dorian took a seat on Kaaras’s lap, suddenly feeling strangely small but marvelously warm as the larger man’s arms wrapped around him. “Can I kiss you?” he asked once they were settled, and by way of answer, Dorian leaned in and pressed their lips together.

The two stayed like that for a while, exchanging kisses in their quiet nook in the empty library until Kaaras finally pulled away, not wanting to keep Dorian up any longer. Dorian, of course, would have been content to stay awake until morning doing just that, but he also didn’t want to keep the already-tired Inquisitor up any later. So they parted with one more kiss and a promise from Kaaras that he would be back the next evening, and more awake for their next round of studies, and Dorian went to sleep feeling like the Kaaras had cast a fire ball into the middle of his chest.

_Festis bei umo canavarum_.


End file.
